The Brightest Star in the Highlands: Jennie and Aedan (Clan Grant Series Book 7) (5 page)

“You are dealing with a guilt that is too much for you to bear. You love your family more than anything, and all of your family expects you to become a healer for your clan. Your sister is well renowned for her skills, and you could achieve the same status, but you don’t know if you wish this for yourself.” She crossed her arms and stared at the clouds—a kindness.

“Aye,” Jennie sniffled, swiping at her tears.

“You feel as if you have betrayed them by walking away. The strain of the fighting, the present clan skirmishes that no one understands, has brought you an untold number of wounded. You cannot handle it, yet your upbringing tells you that you have betrayed your duty to your people.”

“Aye. You are quite intuitive.”

The abbess turned to face her and reached up to cup her cheek with one hand. “And where do you go from here?”

“I do not know,” she answered. Her palms came up to grasp each side of her head after the abbess dropped her hand. “I do not know. And worst of all, I know not where to turn, or who to turn toward.”

“And?” The abbess crossed her arms in front of her, waiting patiently for Jennie to finish.

“I have failed my family. What do I do?”

“Have you tried asking God? I expect He is the best one to give you guidance in this matter.”

“I have tried, but to no avail.” She hung her head, ashamed that the Lord had not come to her aid, afraid the abbess would judge her for being ignored by Him.

The abbess reached for Jennie’s hands and wrapped hers around them. “Then you have not been listening. The Lord will guide you, but you have to be open to Him. Is your heart open?”

Tears flooded Jennie’s cheeks. “I don’t know. I just don’t know. My brothers are upset…I am sure Brenna must be angry…I know Robbie expected me to stay and heal the members of our clan. Who else is angry with me?”

“Certainly not Lady Cameron, child. Had you not been here, mayhap her son would have died. He has been on the edge of death since his injury several days ago. She would say you are a blessing from God and that our benevolent Lord sent you here. You do not believe this is possible?”

Jennie paused, her hands dropping to her sides.

“You have difficulty comprehending that the Lord could have put this turmoil in your heart with the intent of guiding you here to save our chieftain? Their family has dealt with enough in recent months. Losing Aedan Cameron would be too much for the entire clan to handle right now.”

Jennie stared at the abbess in shock. Did she speak the truth? Had she been brought here for a reason? Her furrowed brow ached, and her hand came up to rub the skin between her eyes.

“You truly believe ‘tis possible?” A flicker of hope waved in her heart.

“Aye, ’tis what I see, lass. A clan under attack, a chieftain near death. These lands are occupied by many nuns and monks who do the Lord’s work. We might have been driven away if control had fallen to the invaders. You have restored hope to all of us. Hope that the Cameron will be able to lead again soon, that he will bring this clan back to what it was many years ago. In its day, the Cameron clan was a mighty force that could protect this house of the Lord. It must regain that strength and power in order for our work to continue and not be threatened by every invader in the Highlands.”

Jennie stared at the abbess, her mouth agape. This thought had never occurred to her.

The abbess patted her hand. “I see I have given you much to think about. But aye, I do believe ‘twas divine intervention that sent you to our abbey.” She kissed Jennie’s cheek. “And I thank you for following God’s plan for you. You were listening, my dear, or you would not have come. Sometimes, God’s words come to us in a cloud. We may not hear every word, but ‘tis important we heed His meaning, and you did. Perhaps you are not as lost as you think you are.”

Jennie’s gaze followed the abbess as she turned and headed back to the abbey.

Aye, she had much to think about.

Chapter Five

Aedan darted awake, the sharp pain in his side demanding his attention. He glanced up to see Jennie Grant standing at his bedside and tending to his wound.

“Och, lass, no need to rush this, is there?” he ground out, the pain shooting through his body.

“I am hurting you? My apologies. ’Twas not my intention, though it will hurt some. I don’t need to be quite so brusque.”

“Nay,” his gaze took in the pain in her eyes, the tension and defeat in her shoulders. “From the way you move, it strikes me that you are angry with the world. Or ’tis just me?”

“I have no anger with you, Laird Cameron. I take issue with these senseless attacks that have become so commonplace these days.” She tugged on a linen strip to remove it from under his side.

Aedan winced and covered her hand with his, halting her movement. “Lass? If you would ask, I’d be happy to move for you to ease your task.”

Jennie sat back, and did her best to smile. He could tell it was not easy for her. How could such a beautiful lass be so troubled?

“Please turn on your side so I may clean your wound and then re-apply the salve,” Jennie replied without making eye contact.

Aedan did as he was bid, leaning on his side to give her better access to his wound. Her touch was tender now, and more relaxed. He reached for the linen to cover up his front side the best he could.

“You are cold?”

“Aye,” he lied. Hell, he wasn’t cold, but he could hardly ignore what that tender caress of her hand did to his skin. His pain had eased considerably with her soft ministrations, changing his response to a burgeoning erection. Without the linen, he would totally embarrass himself.

“Then cover as much as you can. If ’tis due to shyness, there is naught you have that I have not seen before today. I have treated so many wounded warriors that they march through my nightmares.”

“Healing causes you to have nightmares? Then why do it?”

“I came to the abbey to get away from the tragedies of the clan wars. My hope was that some time away from healing would help clear my mind, but your mother requested that I tend to your injury.”

“Then leave me be.” He stilled her hand. “I am alive and will heal. It has been several days now. Go back and tend to your own needs.”

Jennie tugged her hand back and continued. “I shall finish what I started.”

Aedan quickly grasped for her hand again. Jennie froze at his touch, halting her ministrations. He whispered, “Leave me if ’tis not in your wish to continue to heal. You have done enough. Leave the salve and I will apply it. You need not see me again.” Aedan rolled onto his back enough to gaze into her eyes. So many emotions flitted across her face, he had trouble following them—anger, frustration, sadness, and was that empathy?

He wished he could read her thoughts, but he could not. Her mind moved too quickly for him. She stared at him, finally making eye contact. Her brown eyes were flecked with gold, he noticed, gold that matched the highlights in her chestnut colored hair. The gold caressed her as it would a queen, yet she had no air of arrogance about her, just a sadness that he wished to wash away for her.

His memory of her in Lothian was of a different lass—young, naïve, confident. He did not see that confidence today, even though she had brought him back from a place he would rather forget. He was not ready to greet his sire yet. With such talent, why was she so confused?

Perhaps they shared more than he would have guessed. Apparently, she was as confused as he was about his present situation. Did she feel as though she was thrown into being a healer as he did about becoming chieftain?

He rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand, a soft rhythmic caress meant to calm her. “Jennie, leave me be. You must tend to yourself.”

“What do you mean?” Her gaze briefly glanced at his hand on hers before returning to her work.

“Your frustration is evident in all that you do. You must come to terms with who you are before you tend to others.”

“I cannot.”

“Then return to the abbey to seek peace and guidance. You are not the same lass who fired an arrow into the woods some time ago and then charged at me like a protective mother wolf at her cub, seeking to right any wrongs. ’Tis not the same look I see in your eyes.”

Jennie wrenched her hand from Aedan, shocked at his assessment of her. How could he read her so well? She turned to face her satchel of tools, but then whirled back toward him. She slathered a gob of salve on his hip, gave him a few terse instructions, and then grabbed her skirts and her satchel and ran from the room.

At the doorway, she stopped. “You are a fool, Cameron. You speak too freely.” She spun on her heel and left.

“Lass, you cannot fight the truth. Heal thyself first,” he yelled after her.

After she left, he chastised himself for sending her out of the room. Quite simply, he wished to be around Jennie Grant. But she had reacted defensively, conflict and tension written all over her face and in all her movements. What had happened to her? Perhaps he had been too harsh with her, but he understood how sometimes people needed to hear the truth, whether they liked it or not.

He could see how tending wounded lads could be very tiresome. Her chosen vocation promised happiness and fulfillment if successful. But wretched failure was also possible. How could a healer reconcile this strange dichotomy? It was not something he could handle.

But yet there was something about Jennie Grant he could not deny. She intrigued him, and the draw he felt toward her was like nothing he had ever experienced. The aura of gold surrounding her seemed to have been dropped from the heavens, and it beckoned to him, threatening to pull him in and never let go. Perhaps Jennie had seen all of a man’s body, but he was quite sure she had never experienced what his mind was thinking of doing to her; nay,
with
her.

His mind told him he didn’t have time for this now, that a woman would complicate matters and get in the way of what needed to be done for his clan.

But his gut told him different. That was not the last time he would see Jennie Grant. In his mind, their relationship had only just begun. He needed to allow her to come to the same conclusion. Together, they could be powerful. She had given him the hope he had been denied since his father’s untimely death. Jennie Grant
was
hope.

And he planned to charge at her the way she had charged at him many moons ago in a forest in Lothian.

***

Jennie left, not wishing to face more embarrassment from that brute of a chieftain. She hated the way her insides flipped whenever she was in his presence. But more importantly, she hated his ability to read her mind. She had tried so hard to conceal the fact that she did not want to use her healing skills just now, and yet he had immediately known. It was as if he were inside her head, inside her heart.

Well, if he did not need her skills, she would return to the abbey. She fled down the passageway and down the staircase, hoping to escape without running into Lady Cameron. She breathed a sigh of relief when she passed through the great hall and descended the steps to the outdoors.

The inner bailey was extremely busy, with clan members bustling about in different directions as if something unusual had transpired. Men were yelling, and women were bustling around with their bairns. She did not care to find out what was happening. She was going to leave before she lost her mind. She passed the smithy, then took the long way around to the stables to arrange for an escort back to the abbey. Taking the straight route through the bailey might well have gotten her run down.

When she finally arrived at the stable, she was shocked to see Aedan standing next to his horse while the stable lad assisted him.

“What are you doing? You cannot do that. You’ll pull all the stitches and break your wound open again.” She came up behind him and reached for his hand, oblivious to the fact that she was ordering around a chieftain.

Aedan spun around. “You are still here? Then turn yourself around. You cannot leave now. There is another skirmish on our boundaries, and who knows if it will progress inward. You need to be inside the curtain wall. These scavengers are not above attacking an abbey. Stay here.”

“You cannot go. You’ll undo all the progress you have made in the last few days.”

Aedan strode up so his face was inches from hers, though he had to bend over in order to do it. “The last I understood from you, my lady, was that you did not care what happened to me. You are no longer interested in healing, so begone.” His last words came out in the barest whisper.

Jennie could not tear her gaze from his. His brown hair curled at his neck, and the expression in his blue eyes shot straight to her core, causing a tingling that spread throughout her body. He was so close she could feel the heat of his breath, and her senses reeled in response. She ached to touch him, but to do so would be inappropriate. Wrapped up in his presence, she could barely even recall what she’d just said to him. He was as locked into her as she was to him, the world dissolving around them and leaving just the two of them, wrought with confusion but unable to let go of each other.

Totally unsettled, she cleared her throat. “You must take care when you ride. Of course, you should not ride, but you are pig-headed.”

He leaned toward her, close enough that their lips almost touched. Jennie wanted to cross the chasm and taste his lips, the smell of mint leaves beckoning her, but she controlled her impulses, mostly because they confused her.

“Jennie, I appreciate all you have done, but the invaders are here again, and I must lead, even if ‘tis not my wish. I promised my sire I would lead our clan. Naught will stop me.” His heavy lidded gaze sent her a hidden message—one in a language she was just starting to understand.

Footsteps echoed nearby. Moments later, Dermid reached his side. “Cameron, stop playing with the lass and make haste. This will not go well. There are too many.”

“Mind your tongue, Dermid. Trust me, the lass and I are not playing.” Aedan turned away, but then stopped to look at her. “You will not leave the keep until our return, understood?”

Jennie bit her lip because she didn’t like being ordered around, but she complied. “Aye.” Only because she was concerned for his well-being. “I’ll be here to sew you up again. For certes, you will be in far worse shape when you return.”

Aedan followed Dermid out, but moments later he returned, breathless. Tugging her close, he whispered in her ear, “I look forward to it, lass.” She thought he was about to kiss her, but he pulled back instead. With a grin and a wink, he left the stable once more and climbed onto his horse.

The way he clutched the saddle in a death grip was the only indication of the pain he felt. Aedan was no different than Alex, foolishly continuing to fight when they should not. He risked his well-being by leading his clan, yet he continued on. Men of the Highlands were fierce warriors, albeit foolish. A thought came to mind that she wished to push away. Had she left the Grant clan because of the fighting, or was the true reason something else?

Her brother was no different than he had ever been, fighting to protect his clan and his neighbors, just as Aedan insisted on doing. Perhaps her request to her brother had been foolish and naïve.

“Cameron, I know you must go. Swing your sword with the other arm and try not to swing it overhead.” She followed him on foot to the portcullis, watching as he joined his sea of warriors, a path opening through them for the Cameron, and he let out the clan whoop as he spurred his horse. The other men followed.

He should be at the rear, not at the forefront of the battle. Why was he choosing to be foolish?

She touched her fingers to her lips, feeling as though the near kiss had branded her. Though she was totally innocent in the ways of love between a man and a woman, she could not stop wondering what the near kiss had meant. She begrudgingly admitted it would have been quite nice had his warm lips pressed against hers, but perhaps it was foolish to assume he thought of her in that way. She blushed realizing others were watching her, so she crossed her arms against the cold wind, wrapping her mantle tight around her shoulders, and made her way back to the great hall.

She suddenly had more than a passing interest in Aedan’s safe return.

***

Aedan chastised his foolish thoughts. Aye, he had almost kissed the lass, but what a foolish act it would have been. Jennie Grant, renowned healer to the Scots and sister to the laird of the greatest clan in the Highlands, was not within his realm. His clan was small, and their continued existence could only be credited to the double abbey on their property. Protecting it was a mighty challenge, but fortunately, times had been quiet with little chance of any large skirmishes until now. Aye, there had always been reivers, but they rarely bothered the Camerons, fearing they would be struck down by God if they made a serious attempt.

Suddenly, things had changed. These newcomers feared neither God nor man. “Dermid, how many?” His horse galloped across the meadow, every bounce jarring his wound and shooting pain through his system. Choosing to ignore it, he continued onward.

“About fifty men. Cameron, you should not be here. You do not look well enough to fight. One swing of your sword will undo all and send you back to the healer.”